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lister" :'Fw?gle 



By a San Jose Poet 




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"MisW Fangle 



And Other 
Verses 




BY A SAN JOSE POET 






Copyright 1910 
H. F. BERNARD 



1261912 



Table of Contents 



MISTER FANGLE: A SCHOOL-GIRL'S ROMANCE. 7 

THE VACANT CHAIR. 8 

TO A LITTLE GIRL. 9 

THE CHILDLESS LIFE. 10 

WRITTEN IN LOTTIE'S ALBUM FOR ANOTHER 

GIRL. 10 

THE GIRLS OF THE DRYER. 11 

TO A GIRL WHO STUCK OUT HER TONGUE. 12 

CAMPING. 12 

THE GIRLS OF CALIFORNIA. 13 

BREAKE NOT YE GLASSE. 14 

JUSTICE: A REPLY TO DR. WATTS. 15 

THE MAIDEN'S BLESSING. 16 

THE GOLDEN AGE. 17 

LA PORTE FERMEE. 18 

THE SWEETS OF VENGEANCE. 19 

PATIENCE. 20 

THE MONKEY. 21 

THE KNOCKER. 22 

FROM LOVE TO HATE. 23 

VENGEANCE: VIRTUE OR VICE. 24 

UNION: AN EPITAPH. 25 

CURSE NOT THE KING. 25 

MRS. MANLY ESQUIRE. 26 

TO TESSIE. 26 

TO LOTTIE. 27 

TO A HAUGHTY MAIDEN. 27 

GOOD-BYE, DEARIE. 28 



MISTER FANGLE: A SCHOOL-GIRL'S ROMANCE. 



Mary Sparker, for a starter, 

Went with Fangleberg. 
"Mister" Fangle used to dangle 

On the road with her. 

"Mister" Fangle liked to angle 

For a pretty girl; 
"Mister" Fangle — Jingle-Jangle — 

Was the boy for her. 

"Mister" Fangle used to wrangle 

With the boys in town: 
They said Fangle — Bingle-Bangle — 

Kissed all the girls around. 

But the girls with pretty curls 

Did saucily declare 
Of "Mister" Fangle — Dingle-Dangle — 

They'd like to see him dare. 

And then, again, they would explain, 
(Twas thus the story ran) 

That "Fang" was "sweet", just "fit to eat/ 
But "perfect gentleman." 

And furthermore, they would implore, 

That even if he did, 
That he was "right" and "out of sight," 

Though nothing but a kid. 

But the boys, their mother's joys, 
In such talk took no truck ; 

They knew the rule, "Fang" was no fool : 
They wished they had his luck. 

He might be "sweet" and "good" to eat" 
(They'd not deny him praise) 

He might be "right" and "out of sight," 
But still have winning ways. 

They would admit he was a kid, 
(They saw that at a glance) 



If girls were wise, one would surmise. 
They'd give a man a chance. 

This good advice, within a trice, 

Went straight to Mary's head : 

She shook the boys and all their noise, 
And married a man — instead. 



THE VACANT CHAIR. 



(Written to Mrs. A. M. Prosser, for Dr. S. S. Prosser) 

My dearest Mother, sweet and fair, 
I'm thinking of the vacant chair, 
That now in Oakland waits for me, 
But — oh ! alas ! must empty be. 
I am not dead nor drunk nor sick. 
Nor just become a benedict: 
No sweet-heart chains me to her side, 
Nor claims my love, this Christmastide. 
But patients — listen — one, two, three, 
All sick to death, have claims on me : 
I dare not venture from their side, 
Nor be with thee, this Christmastide. 
Poor Briggs has got a ruptured skin, 
(I think he fell and hurt his shin) 
The others are too sick to tell, 
And need my aid to get them well. 
So, Mother dear, you must be fair: 
I cannot fill that vacant chair. 
My Spirit, though, shall linger near — 
Shall mingle with the Christinas cheer — 
And so entrance my presence, there; 
Fancy shall fill my vacant chair. 



TO A LITTLE GIRL. 



Sweet Little Girl, so bright and fair, 
I wish you adways little were : 

For when you're grown, 

And Childhood's flown, 
And Womanhood shall dawn, 

I then shall gaze 

On Beauty's face, 
Only to know its scorn. 

But now you stand 

Upon the strand 
Of Childhood's happy shore: 

You soon shall reach 

The Briny Beach, 
And slowly shall pass o'er — 

Pass o'er the Flood 

To Womanhood, 
While tempests madly roar; 

When Childhood's dead, 

The Angel's fled, 
And gone forevermore. 

But on that day, 

I firmly pray, 
Your bark may safely sail, 

And steer her right 

With Conscience bright, 
Though tossed by Passion's gale. 

And when, at last. 

Your voyage is past. 
And reached the Heavenly shore, 

I then shall meet 

An Angel sweet, 
And love thee — evermore. 



10 

THE CHILDLESS LIFE. 



As little boy and girl, we played among the flowers; 
Light-hearted a> the birds, we passed the fleeting hours; 

Nor recked the time would come, when man and woman, we. 
^ad-hearted ana alone, should miss the children's glee; 
When, tilled with rush of business, its struggle and its strife. 
We'd rind there still was something that was lacking in our 

life. 
So we settle down and marry, and wed — both man and 

dame — 
But, bye and bye, we realize that married-life is tame, 
For the hearth seems awful dreary — with no children play- 
ing 'round — 
And our hearts feel — oh! so weary! — for our Ship of Life's 

aground. 
For we really ought to marry to rear an infant race, 
Which, when we die, shall tarry — to ably take our place — 
And pass the flame of life, sir, on — on — from sire to son. 
And finish nobly — grandly — what we ourselves begun. 
But still we sit in terror, and view the hearth around. 
And see the single error, thac our married-life confounds. 
If we are young- and fearless, God bless our happy fate : 
if we are old and cheerless, we wring our hearts — too late. 
A childless life, here-after, shall speechless sorrows bring: 
Life, without children's laughter, is a cheer Jess — joyless 

thing. 
And he that will not battle and triumph o'er his foes. 
Shall miss the children's prattle, and find unending woes. 
For his shall be, full surelv, a never-ending strife: 
His fate, a WIFELESS SOLITUDE, and childless— home- 
less — life. 



WRITTEN IN LOTTIE'S ALBUM FOR ANOTHER 

GIRL. 



She's fair of form, with azure eyes. 

Sweet is her dimpled smile, 
Her face is matchless — Beauty's prize — 

I love her all the while. 
I wish I were a man — sometimes — 

That I might cherish her. 
But horrid Fate, dear Lot. is mine. 

I am — another ffirl. 



11 

THE GIRLS OF THE DRYER. 



Dearest Girls of the Dryer, I'm about to retire 

To a wider and worthier field, 
But I know that your sorrow Will not last till to-morrow, 

When I have my departure revealed. 

But never mind, Girls, This is a great world — 
And a greater than ever you thought — 

There are fish in the sea That I do guarantee 
Will out-rival the best ever caught. 

Some girls wed for greed : 'Tis money they need, 

But if you wed gold, you'll regret it; 
For it is a true tale : Anything that's for sale 

Isn't worthy the trouble to get it. 

Take a man that is smart, With a big tender heart, 
Who is willing to love and adore you: 

He will take you for wife. Make you happy for life. 
And you'll live with a FUTURE before you. 

If you see a nice gent, And you love him — consent — 

Tf he asks you to wed him, of course. 
Be true to your spouse, And build up his house, 

And you never will have a divorce. 

Farewell for the present ; Be happy and pleasant, 
For I've loved one and all from the start ; 

But of one thing be sure, Though I may be a boor, 
I have your best interests at heart. 

There's a kiss for the pretty ones. And a wish for the witty 
ones, 

And a merry good time for you all. 
Oh ! never endeavor Our friendship to sever : 

May it last til! Eternity's call. 

And when we get there. In the Land that is fair. 
And we live in the realms of the Blest, 

Ah! then shall you know, If rightly I trow, 

Who it was that has loved you the best. 



12 

TO A GIRL WHO STUCK OUT HER TONGUE. 



My dear little May, I've got something to say 

'Bout the wrong that was certainly done you. 

But then you're so pretty and so charmingly witty. 
It would be quite a sin for to shun you. 

When you stick out your tongue, that's so sweet and so long 

(Sugar-coated it must be. I'm sure) 
How I'd like for to meet it. and lovingly greet it. 

If I could all that sweetness endure. 

And I think to myself of a sly kind of pelf. 

(For indeed the temptation's so strong) 
How I'd like to be near you. both to love and endear you 

And sweetly to fondle that tongue. 

But the maid I'm addressing may think I'm transgressing, 

In presuming her easy to sway. 
And the tongue of my stranger prove the Flag of Red 
Danger, 

Just to bid me keep out of the way. 

When men go to war — to die by the score. 

And perish by fire and sword. 
They display a red rag, as a true battle flag — 

To show that there's danger abroad. 

So with you 'tis. I guess. When anger doth press 

On your bosom, and cause it to rise. 
Your wrath is so strong that you stick out your tongue. 

Like a toad that is catchinsr the flies. 



CAMPING. 

When Pain and Sorrow rend our brows with woe. 

Nature's relief in cooling fountains flow, 

And healing tears absolve our hearts of care — 

All bitterness dispel that centered there. 

When Dull Monotony stagnation brings. 

And makes us wish there was an end of things. 

We leave the towns, and seek the cooling shades 

Of forest-groves, their picturesque scenes and glades 

We take Dame Nature to our hearts once more. 

Receive her blessing, and the Dame adore. 



13 

THE GIRLS OF CALIFORNIA. 



The land is fair, and Nature smiles, 
And fills the fields with flowers, 

And orchard-homes extend for miles — 
With beauteous Orange bowers. 

Cypress and Myrtle, side by side, 

Blend sorrow, too, with pleasure ; 

And merry maidens with us ride, 

And fill our hours of leisure. 

The California Girl is sweet 

And winsome little creature ; 

When her caressing form we meet, 
Love smiles in every feature. 

Oh ! how can any man observe 

This fairy nymph of fashion, 

And all her beauteous charms discern, 
And not confess his passion. 

If he should chance with loving glance 
To clasp her close beside him, 

And hold her charms within his arms. 
I would not greatly chide him. 

I'd surely blame him twice as much, 
If tamely he restrains him, 

And stands aside, as if to hide 

The passion that detains him. 

For surging blood within his veins 
Is hard enough to master. 

Who can control the Ocean's roll? 
The lover's heart beats faster. 

The maiden loves the man that's bold, 

Who "feels his soul grow tender," 

And he who boldly claims her hand, 
She holds a mild offender. 

But if he once allows to pass 

A chance she's slyly given. 



■14- 



She classes him at once an ass : 

He never is forgiven. 

She loves the Athlete's graceful form, 
With all its dash and verve : 

She hates the man that hesitates : 

She loves the man with "nerve. 

She loves the man that's full of fun: 
His chorus is her laughter : 

The pious youth and solemn truth 
Are not what she is after. 



Sunshine and laughter, here, are hers: 
She has no use for gloom : 

Sunshine and "things" make birdies sing. 
And make the flowerets bloom. 

It turns her mind to thoughts sublime. 

Gives us the joy of joys : 
Hence 'tis, we And. in a sunny clime. 

Women make joyous wives. 



BREAKE NOT YE GLASSE. 



Gaze not upon ye Looking-Glasse 
Too often nor too longe. 

Leste thy bleake Stare 

And crazie Aire 
Shoulde offren yt some Wronge, 
And hurte yts Feelings be. 

And thy Broke Glasse 

Reflecte an Asse 
Closely resembling thee. 

And then thou'lr save 

In thy Dismaye. 
Thy wounded Pride to free. 

"Thou foolishe Glasse, 

I be no such Asse : 
Thou'rt making a Face — at me." 



15 

JUSTICE: A REPLY TO DR. WATTS. 



I lived at school by Christian rule, 

Humbly, devout and meek; 
And when my mates did smite my face, 

Would turn the other cheek. 

It did not work, a fight to shirk ; 

The boys all proved it, there, 
That it was right to stand and fight, 
And give your courage air. 

For dogs delight to bark and bite : 

It is their nature to; 
I came to know that blow for blow 

Was human nature, too. 

My face was raw : they broke my jaw ; 

They beat me black and blue; 
It made me blink: I came to think 

The scriptures were not true. 

I came to doubt: I soon found out 

No settled peace could be, 
But that, instead, each man was sped 

To armed neutrality. 

For if we're subject to abuse. 

And see a chance to win, 
Like blood-hounds, from a leash turned loose, 

We rouse the battle's din. 

If meekly we should bend the knee, 
Or humbly bow the head, 
We soon shall feel the conqueror's heel 
Upon our neck, instead. 

In Moses' age, that Godlike sage 

Did sternly speak this truth : 

"Eye for an eye, doth Justice cry, 

And tooth shall pay for tooth." 

In Pity's eye, no lying sigh 

Shall urge me from the right. 



16- 



For I have grown of moral tone— - 

Iron-clad with conscience fight. 

And though my hand, like iron band, 
Will firmly grasp a friend, 

At Honor's call, with vim and gall, 
My rights I will defend. 

And if my foes tread on my toes, 

And me in folly rush, 
They'll find that skill and vengeance will 

Conciliate or crush. 

In days of old, a Goddess bold 

In Rome's great Forum stood ; 

A balance grand swung from her hand ; 
Her sword was red with blood. 

And thus, 'twas said, this Image dread 
Was oft-times known to stand. 

Dispensing Justice in her scales, 

But Vengeance from her hand. 



THE MAIDEN'S BLESSING. 



There is a Maiden, fond and fair, 
With azure eyes and golden hair, 
Whose face is like the starry sky, 
Illumined by her diamond eye. 

The lily and the rose entwined 
Upon her cheek portray 

That Love and Purity's enshrined 
Upon that Milky Way. 

Whene'er I see those ruby lips, 
And on that beauty gaze, 

I long to take two little sips 

Of honey from that vase. 

But when bold Cupid stirs her breast. 
And Passion lights her eye, 

What man could by her once be blest, 
And uncontented die? 



17 

THE GOLDEN AGE. 



The Golden Age has come, at last, 

For which the martyrs prayed and died ; 
And sin and misery are past: 

We all are saints and sanctified. 

No more, we meet upon the street 

The praying hypocrite, 
Or pious knave, already saved 

From Hell's grim torture pit. 

No, we are told that Job of old, 

When tempted, did declare, 
He knew that his Redeemer lived — 

And fought with fell dispair. 

For Job was brave : he knew the grave 

Would sometime come to take him. 

He also knew that God was true, 

And never would forsake him. 

He did not say he now was saved : 
He did not know for certain. 

He only wished Eternal Bliss, 

When God should raise the curtain. 

The pious fraud has changed his mind, 

Nor longer seeks to sever 
The purse-string of the poor and blind : 

The Devil's dead for ever. 

The honest leech does science teach. 
And quacks no longer advertise 

To cure our ills with drugs and pills, 

And poison with their cunning lies. 

And now, 'tis said, the women wed 

For love — and love — alone — 
And seek for bliss in purest kiss. 

And are like angels grown. 

The lovely things are growing wings, 
And soon will heavenward flv : 



18- 



They long to veer in heavenly sphere, 
And mingle — with the sky. 

The churchmen pay their debts, they say, 
And never try to beat you; 

To God, not on their neighbors prey, 

And never scheme to cheat you. 

Xo women rash make church — a mash, 
Like those of former days, 

Nor do they dare make House of Prayer— 
The Devil's market-place. 

No longer dare the wretch declare. 

While coward crowds concur — 
""Virtue is sold for yellow gold : 

Woman for praise will err." 

With Conscience bold, we now are told. 

The people are heart-whole; 
No more are knaves the Devil's slaves. 

Or "things without a soul." 

For Conscience right and honor bright 
The mass and class control : 

Truth conquers all, both great and small. 
And tames the narrow soul. 

And lovely Nature walks abroad. 

A beaming smile upon her face. 
And every man and maiden fair 

Respect Dame Nature, full of grace 

Religious quacks and fakirs dead, 

All error, sure, has passed away. 

For Truth. Immortal Truth, instead. 

Has come again, and come to stay. 



LA PORTE FERMEE. 



Quelle est la cause qui me fait si triste? 
Est-ce que Je pleure a la mort du Christ? 
Xon. non, Jolle Amie. il est cette pensee. 
Cue vous etes le beau ciel — mai^ la porte fermee. 



19 

THE SWEETS OF VENGEANCE. 



Natures applause each man and woman craves: 

To live in triumphs — die in honored graves. 

Each pulse responds to Nature's quickening throb : 

None but ourselves can us of pleasure rob. 

Each crimson drop of blood exultant lives, 

Each quivring nerve ecstatic pleasure gives, 

Till grandest satisfaction calms the whole, 

And balmy sleep sinks o'er the beatic soul. 

Tlr insulting tongue, a moment's torture yields, 

But Nature, soon, her sovereign will reveals, 

And heals our wounded pride, if we obey 

The good Dame's prompting to commence the fray. 

Stung by the insult, wounded by the slight, 

We clench our fists, or wage a wordy fight ; 

With all our force, the insulting foe defy; 

Determined, yet, to conquer or to die; 

Content to fall, but happier still to prove 

That Sweets of Vengeance rival Sweets of Love. 

But if a coward streak involves the mind, 

Or we to weaker measures are inclined, 

A cank'ring sore does in our conscience dwell, 

And wounded Pride soon changes Heav'n to Hell. 

Wrongs unredressed, a madd'ning torture yield. 

Until the brain-sore is by Vengeance healed. 

Our Mother, Nature, tends us all with care; 

Our ruptured skin doth faithfully repair; 

Our Great Maternal Seamstress daily mends 

Our natural garments, like a faithful friend ; 

And when foul ulcers take our flesh to task, 

The Great Physician heals them all, unasked. 

But when we foster ulcers of the mind, 

She whispers treatment of the needful kind. 

And bids us seek salvation of our cause 

Tn mental hygiene and in moral laws. 

And if we fail — solicitous to our pain — 

She plies us with remorse to try — again ; 

And never fails us in this mortal life, 

Like loving mother, or as faithful wife. 

But if, unmindful of the Dame's decrees, 

We slight her judgment and unheed her pleas, 

A horrid monster, we shall find, instead, 

That tortures us by slow degrees — till dead. 



Bereft of sleep, we tortured shall remain: 
Stung by Remorse, our conscience all in pain 
Sore with Despair, and wounded in our pride: 
Our reputation gone, our patience sorely tried : 
Our hopes all dead, and blasted in our life: 
Insulted daily, and in endless strife: 
Brooding, we seek our shattered life to link. 
But deeper in despair we hourly sink. 
Until, at last, we sink into the grave, 
I-I2I ;:' ::^i:: Perl::::::"* ~eiry slave. 
A~l s: "■ .~e lie 2 :re; y :: IT re 2: P.rrr.r-rse. 
rhout a friend to weep upon our corse. 



PATIENCE. 



The watchful Will that waits will win; 
Joy follows prayer, and sorrow — sin. 
If God delay to hear thy prayer. 
Fear not Dismay, nor dread Despair: 
For Virtue is its own reward. 
And he that loves shall be adored. 
The baited hook shall catch the fish. 
And he that waits shall win his wish. 

Though earthly mothers, their children fail. 

And fathers drag their sons to jail. 

Of this be sure, though Heav'n may fall. 

That God is good and true to all. 

With aching heart and brooding brain. 

We oft of Providence complain. 

And strive with artful schemes to plan 

Our Destiny — our Future scan. 

Our best attempts are vile pretense — 

The Great Designer — Providence. 



21 

THE MONKEY. 



A Monkey, once, out for a spree, 

Did chance a glist'ning pool to see, 

And happ'ning in its depths to stare, 

Did see another monkey, there. 

This monkey tried to stare him down, 

Which made our staring Monkey frown. 

The frown returned, our Monkey swore 

He soon would even up the score, 

And in the fight which next befell. 

Our Monkey sprang into the well, 

And, in his rage and deadly hate, 

Did try to find his mirrored mate. 

Although one corpse, alone, was found, 

Both monkeys in that well were drowned. 

Such monkeys, ev'ry day, we meet, 

In human form upon the street; 

They look into each other's eyes, 

Repeat the smile in glad surprise, 

And, if perchance, they find a frown, 

They try perforce to frown it down, 

And thus precipitate a fight 

That seldom sets the matter right. 

In iust for blood and greed we vie, 

While plunging in the thickest fray: 

Forgot is ev'ry friendly tie 

That binds us to humanity. 

Alas ! my friends, the smiling face 

Will oft the frowning humor chase, 

And loyal hearts, enforced by will, 

Will bid the storms of life be still, 

And with a sense of sin and shame 

Will many a fallen friend reclaim. 

As when the sun shines in your eyes, 

And rifts the clouds in glad surprise, 

The gloom of sorrow on your brow 

Transforms to smiling Nature now, 

And, like a mirror, ev'ry face 

Reflects each smile and winning grace. 

So seeks the human heart to find 

Some other heart, that's not unkind. 

But true as steel — that seems to be 

In unison and sympathy. 



>?- 



THE KNOCKER. 



The man who will quit, when he's wickedly hit. 

Or is :: _ -"r J . :y the ~rst heavy- blow. 
Is not of the brand that I'd take by the hand. 
Or I'd stake for to stay with a foe 

He's a man who will smile, both with cunning and guile, 

And hand you '"bull-ecu" by the peck. 

are °"one. he will droo all this "con." 



He will do you up quick with a knock that will -tick. 

In a way that will give you surprise. 
And so slick^ that you'd vow, if you chanced along now. 

You could hardly believe your "wn eyes. 

He won": stay in a right for a friend whe is "right"' 

If you ever are knocked in a crowd. 
Or are given an ill-fame, he will blacken your name: 

He's a quitter, who is easily cowed. 

He will "boost" to your face, and claim 'tis disgrace 

To ever go tack on a friend: 
But. just turn your back, and hell give you a crack. 

Tha: will knock you. instead of defend. 

He is full of "hot-air." and will loudly declare. 

He can lick any -tan r<: be found. 
But he licks with his toiteue. for that's where he's stronsr: 

When he fights, he is whipped in a round. 

He will make love to your wife, and. perhaps, take your life 

In a cowardly — underhand — way ; 
But. just show him up, he's a cowardly pup. 

Who will not take a chance in a fray. 

He's a sneak who will steal, and dishonor reu 
He's a turn-coat, your honor will slight: 

You will find him together with ""birds oi a feather" — 
All "knocker- ' and ""quitters" — on sight. 

If you ever irounce him. and. sternly denounce him. 

He will quit right away on the spot : 
So -how him no mercies, knock him hard, give him curse-. 

And hand it him good red and 



23 

FROM LOVE TO HATE. 



Within this Valentine you'll find 

A story wrought in Black and Gold, 

That tells of a love, once warm and kind, 
But now grown cruel and cold. 

Say ! can you feel the sentiment 

Upon these snowy pages wrought? 

Each line holds some philosophy, 

Some deep and heart-felt thought. 

^ ^ ^ ^ >jc sjcifc % 

Say, Dearest Lu, what fools we are ! 
At — last we find ourselves at war. 
In every nerve and every vein, 
Hatred has come supreme to reign. 
In spite of all our Will's command, 
Hatred leaps forth in grip of hand, 
And in our eyes, the glance of Hate, 
Has caused "dear friends" to separate. 
And yet we swore that once we'd be 
True friends through all Eternity, 
And little thought that Love would be 
The end of "friends" for you and me ; 
And when we came to separate, 
That "Cruel Love" would turn to Hate. 
So, Dearest Lu, I know not why 
I loved you once, and hate you now. 
And that, in spite of every vow, 
I curse where once I used to sigh. 
Yet, when I speak to womankind, 
I say that Lu is sweet and kind. 
But when I meet a man, I say, 
"She cannot make a woman's play, 
And have me humbly come her way: 

I will not be her dog. 
But, face to face, I'll tell her why 
She is degraded in my eye, 
And not a mate for you or I : 

Her memory I'll jog. 
And yet she's honest, true and good — 
I want that to be understood — 
For, Mr. Man, I don't throw mud." 

But why this change? I can't tell why, 



24 



Yet humor twinkles in my eye. 

If she should make the faintest stir, 

I know I've got the best of her. 

She says that she can use a whip : 

Good God ! I'd like to see it flip ! 

For Hatred fills us through and through 

I want to fight, and so does Lu. 

Give me a true and noble friend, 

Who will my honest name defend 

Also a foe, as true as steel, 

To call me down, and make me feel, 

And deal me stagg'ring blow for blow. 

And cause the crimson blood to flow. 

But damn a man, whose flatt'ring tongue 

Calls me his friend, and does me wrong: 

And like the meanest cur, we find. 

Smiles to mv face, and — stabs behind. 



VENGEANCE: VIRTUE OR VICE. 



Tempt not the wrath of Heav'n too far, 
Whenever you revengeful are ; 
Think that revenge, by Heav'n unsped, 
Recoils upon the Avenger's head. 
Vengeance — like Virtue in excess — 
Doth turn to Vice and Bitterness. 




25 

UNION: AN EPITAPH. 



Here lie, beneath this marble slab, 

Two lovers, side by side. 
They were united, while they lived — 

United, when they died. 

They were a loving couple, till 

Eclopis cut the thread. 
And who shall say they love not still, 

Beneath this flowery bed? 

For though their hearts have ceased to beat, 
They, in the violets, bloom ; 

And ashes that composed them once 
Have risen from the tomb. 

An omen, from the grave, to tell 

How, on Elysium's shore, 
They wander in some flowery dell, 

And love — to part no more. 



CURSE NOT THE KING. 



Roast not of prowess, nor of deeds you've wrought, 

Lest by misfortune thou be brought to naught. 

Curse not the King, nor any mighty lord, 

Ev'n within thy closet's inmost ward, 

Lest some ill-omened bird should thee betray, 

And blaze thy secrets in the light of day; 

And thou be into some vile prison cast, 

To — there — with tears, lament thy mournful past, 

And — there — resolve, should blessed freedom come, 

NEVER AGAIN to slander anyone: 

But, in the prison of thy mind. 

To keep thy secrets from mankind. 

For many men have lost the day 

By giving their own thoughts awa\. 

So, in the Prison of thy Heart. 

Thy thoughts securely keep, 

Lest thou to others them impart, 

And thou have cause to weep. 



26 

MRS. MANLY ESQUIRE. 



There's a dame at the Dryer, Mrs. Manly Esquire. 

Who's as clumsy as clumsy can be, 
For she walks with a start, and her limbs fly apart 

In a way that is painful to see. 

And here. I would state, it's her masculine gait, 
To which I have now just referred, 

For it's part of my tale that she strides like a male, 
And not like the feminine herd. 

Her shoes are so big, I believe that a pig 

Could reside within one — quite at ease — 

But in case he should fail, I would venture a sail 
In the other upon the high seas. 

She is homely, I doubt, and a fool and a lout. 
And of brains she is wo fully lacking. 

With a mouth like a spout, or a pig's vicious snout. 
Or the beak of a duck that is quacking. 

But how can I tell quite so much of this belle? 

Have I analyzed her mental mixture? 
No, Gents, but I took just one look at her snoot. 

And then got inspired by her picture. 



TO TESSIE. 



My Dearest Tess and sweetest Fate. 

We've tried — tried hard — to separate. 

We've promised — both — we would forget. 

And cut it out without regret : 

But still thy iigure haunts my eye : 

Xo other form doth satisfy. 

Oh ! how I long for thy sweet face 

And all thy sweet and queenly o-race. 

Come, cut it out, let's both forget : 

Let's cut it out — without regret. 

We can't forget, though hard we try : 

No other form does satisfy ; 

For in this room we pledged our troth : 

Till Death shall come, we'll keep our oath. 

Xo matter, too, how hard we try, 

We'll ne'er forget until we die. 



27 

TO LOTTIE. 



My dear little Lot, 

You cute little Tot, 
You're sweet as a woman can be ; 

That you twinkle your eye, 

Whenever I'm nigh, 
Is plain to a "man up a tree". 

Then your eyes seem to dance 

In a mischievous glance, 
As if you had reason to doubt me ; 

And then you will smile 

To yourself for awhile, 
As though you knew something about me. 

You straighten your face, 

The smile to erase, 
If I happen the snicker to spy; 

And your eyelid will blink 

With a sly little wink, 
Whenever I'm passing you by. 

Dearest Lot, tell me why 

Do you twinkle your eye ? 
And what do you know bad about me? 

Why smile? And why wink? 

And why do you think 
You have any occasion to doubt me? 



TO A HAUGHTY MAIDEN. 



Say, Maiden fair, with haughty air, 

Who deem yourself above me, 
Did you but know this man, I trow, 

You could not fail to love me. 
But, dearest Dame, in Friendship's name, 

A moment longer tarry — 
Did you but see this soul's decree, 

You would not dare to marry. 



28 

GOOD-BYE. DEARIE 



Good-bye. Dearie. 
My heart is weary: 

I 'm — going — away. 
My Sweetest Fain.'. 
You're too contrary: 

I — can — not — stay. 

For Love I pleaded: 
'Twas you I needed. 

: : n — told — me — nay. 
My heart is broken. 
And by this token 

I Ve — gone — away. 

Stone-hearted Beauty. 
I've done my duty: 

Have — your — own — w a ; 
111 ne'er forget thee : 
You will regret me — 

When — far — awav. 




